


The Seer and the Beast

by SpaceDarling_and_GrumpyCat



Category: South Park
Genre: Angst, Blood, Demons, Drama, Eventual Romance, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, blind!Tweek, demon!Craig
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 20:01:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14901048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceDarling_and_GrumpyCat/pseuds/SpaceDarling_and_GrumpyCat
Summary: Once upon a time, there was a boy who couldn't see.Once upon a time, there was a spirit who couldn't escape.Once upon a time, they collided.Tweek Tweak was born blind, a curse when the only option was to work. Ignored by the rest of the village, he ends up stumbling into the wrong place at the wrong time. Now cursed with the ability to see demons, Tweek is forced to discover not all that roars is evil, and perhaps even the worst curses are simply blessings in disguise.





	1. The Boy Who Saw Demons

**Author's Note:**

> *tumbles in* hello~ It's me, Que! And with me is Blaine ^.^ You might know us from other places. They're Blue_Noize and I'm TeamAlphaQ! Welcome to our humble abode.
> 
> They're asleep right now, so shhhh, let's not wake them up, but if you've found this, then you've found our first jointly written story, hopefully the first out of many. it should be rather exciting, so I'll shut up now and let you get on with it~
> 
> Enjoy ^.^

Once upon a time, there was a boy born without sight.

This  _ blind _ child was born into a very small village, on the outskirts of a beautiful city, the capital of the surrounding lands.

It was a thriving place, despite its size, being the main exporter of cloth and clothing for the city. Though the village itself was small, there was a great deal of surrounding land which allowed for cotton to be grown and harvested, and silk worms to be housed and tended to. The village also bordered the farmlands, so they dealt in leather as well.

Unfortunately, being blind, the child was rather useless. Or at least, he was treated as such.

His parents, who were rather forgetful people by nature, ignored him in favor of spending day and night at their work. At first, older children from the village took care of the child, but then as he got older, even they started to leave him alone. No one really knew what to do with someone who couldn't work. They were the working class after all, there weren't any jobs for people who couldn't see.

But people were kind enough to keep him alive, and so the child was given food and at least spoken to, even if just in passing.

He grew slowly, always a little malnourished and skittish of people. Since he was left alone, he'd talk to himself, mumbling on under his breath whenever there was no one around. He usually could tell when he was alone, after all, because without sight, his other senses learned to fill in the gaps. 

By the age of eight, the child knew the entire village by touch alone, and even seemed able to sense when new things were put in his way. His parents hoped that this would give him the ability to weave even without sight, but alas, it did not.

Then one day, something changed.

On a cloudy, and dark summer day, the priest of the village passed to the next life. The whole place was thrown into mourning, but the boy, who'd never really gotten to know the priest, wasn't able to join in the grieving. No one could explain the man's death, but all assumed it to be the result of aging. They didn't have any way to determine otherwise. And so, it was with great sorrow that they dug the holy man's grave, and all gathered to hold vigil as he was laid into the ground.

Except for the little blind boy.

After being pushed away by the other villagers, the boy sought shelter in the empty Parrish, fearing the rain that he could sense in the air. The moment he'd stepped through the doors, a chill pervaded the room. Seeking somewhere with more warmth, the boy wandered forward, deeper into the building. Yet the deeper he went, the colder it got. It felt almost crypt-like, and the hairs on the back of his neck rose. Since he couldn't see, he'd learned to follow those little tells that hinted that something was amiss.

Determined to at least find somewhere warm, the boy pushed on ahead until he came into the sanctuary itself. Though he had no sight to perceive the place with, the boy could feel a wave of pure evil wash over him. Nervous, and rightly so, the boy tried to leave, stepping backwards for the doors he'd just come through, but they slammed behind him, trapping him in. Something was horribly wrong. Fearfully, he called out, into the empty room, "W-who's there?"

The only response was a dark chuckle that filled his mind.

_ "How kind of them to send me young meat." _

Opening his mouth in a scream, the boy tried to force the doors open but it was useless, he wasn't strong enough to make a difference. All he could do was pound his fists against the door and yell for help. There was another burst of laughter inside his mind and the air was suddenly sucked from his lungs, leaving him without air to scream with. _"Now now,"_ hissed the voice, which sounded like a thousand nails scraping against porcelain. _"Don't try to_ **_run,_** _where's the fun in that?"_

Petrified, the boy shook with fear as the empty room suddenly became very full. His ears picked up on the  _ tap, tap, tap _ of claws against stone and the way the air seemed to flee the creature, like it couldn't stand to be in the same area as him. Against his skin, the boy felt almost unbearable heat race through and replace the cold, as though the thing was made of pure fire. As the smell of sulfur filled the room, the voice echoed,  _ "I have waited too many millennia for this moment. Too many." _

Then something reached out, searing the air around the boy, and a scorching, agonizing finger touched his throat, burning the skin there. As the cackling rose and the room spun, the boy realized that he was going to die.

Abruptly, there was a clap of thunder and a flash of light appeared before the blind boy's eyes. Though he'd never seen before in his life, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was what light looked like. The creature that had been hovering over him was thrown backwards, and he collapsed against the doors as air rushed into his lungs. Unexpectedly though, when he looked up, he could see something. The sanctuary wasn't there, neither was anything else, but before him were two figures, each terrifying and each burning with different lights.

One was a hideous creature that looked to be made with the fires of hell itself. It's body was shadow and it's eyes were pits of despair. And from it's mouth of jagged teeth, it emitted a shriek of frustration and anger.  _ "HOW DARE YOU!!" _ it roared, rearing back and clawing at the air with fingers as sharp and dangerous as daggers.  _ "WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, TRYING TO STOP ME?" _

"I am from the Lord! And you are nothing but a worm." There was another clap of thunder, and the creature writhed before turning to ash with a hissing roar.

Slowly, the glowing figure turned. Whimpering, the boy pressed himself against the door, fearful of what was to come. The thing was beautiful,  _ he _ , the boy amended, was beautiful. With three pairs of wings and a pure white robe, the only thing the boy had to describe what he was seeing was an angel.  _ Seeing, I'm seeing this. _ Another sound of fear escaped him. Slowly, by degrees, the angel's face softened, and he approached the boy. "Do not be afraid," the angel said, his very mouth seeming to spill holy light. "I am not here to harm you. I am sorry that I did not get here soon enough."

Looking down at the fearful boy, the angel touched the mark the demon had left, and instantly the pain faded. Tentatively, the boy raised his head and stared at the angel. As though he was reading the words from his heart, the angelic being said, "He has cursed you, I can not change that. I can only bless you. It is up to you whether the Demon is allowed to win, or you win instead."

"W-what does that mean?" the boy asked, his voice hoarse from the screaming he'd done before. But the angel only moved back and gave him one last look.

"One day, you will understand." There was another great flash of light, the angel disappeared, and the boy's vision faded to nothingness again, before the strength left his body, and he slumped to the floor.

The next day, the boy awoke in his bed. There were people surrounding him, he could sense them by the way they instantly leaped up and hurried to ask if he was alright. Struggling to control his vocal chords enough to answer, the boy opened his mouth, only to  _ see _ something. It appeared the the nothingness, a single form. But as he stared at it, the thing moved, and the boy realized that he was looking at a horribly grotesque face. As he stared at it, the thing's mouth twisted up into a horrible smile and it crooned,  _ "Welcome to hell, boy, we'll be seeing you." _

And from that day on, Tweek Tweak, the little blind boy, could see demons.


	2. Hope, it Costs the Soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *yawns* oh boy, I think I might join Blaine in a moment and get some sleep. before I pass out though, I'll just leave this here~ 
> 
> Enjoy ^.^

He was trapped. He’d always been trapped. Of course, that wasn’t exactly true. It hadn’t been  _ always _ . It only seemed that way, because He had been there for so long. Decades. Centuries, even. To be honest, He wasn’t entirely sure  _ exactly _ how long He had been trapped. All He knew is that he was. And He wanted to  _ get out. _

He used to be free, you know. As free as any bird, fox, or deer. Long before the roads had crisscrossed the countryside, long before the towns had popupulated the land like ugly trees, yes, but He was  _ free _ . Free to do as He chose,  _ when _ He chose, without having to answer to anyone.

He had been a regular spirit back then, floating amongst the trees and riding on the currents in the air.  _ He _ couldn’t remember what or who He was when He was alive, and, truth be told, He didn’t want to know. He  _ liked _ being a spirit. He  _ liked _ not being alive. True, He didn’t have memories of events or names, but He did have memories of feelings, of  _ emotions.  _ And from what  _ he _ could remember, life had not been kind to  _ him _ .

But one day, all His freedom went away.

On that day, He remembered floating around His favorite pond. From there, He could see the small village that had begun to form, and He could see the creatures that crawled from their homes to sate their thirst in the crystal clear waters of the pond. Most of them were unremarkable. Though He paid attention to them, He couldn’t be bothered to remember them. 

Except there was a different creature that day.

This creature was a human, with eyes as cold as they were intelligent. He knew that He had once been one of these humans, but that had been long, long ago. There was something about this human that scared Him. The man wore the garb of a clergyman, someone of the church, but the balding creature didn’t radiate peace and forgiveness like the other men of the cloth that He had known to frequent the pond.

No, this man had an aura of evil around him, one that made  _ His _ ethereal body flicker and shake. He wanted to leave, to escape this terrible feeling of torment, but there was something holding Him there. For the first time since becoming a spirit, He was actually afraid.

“I know that you are there, vile demon,” the clergyman had said, his voice low and growling, like a wagon wheel over gravel, and his words were short, clipped, with no emotion.

_ But I am no demon; I am just a spirit! _

He had tried to convey this to the man, to see if maybe His words could be heard, but it seemed all for naught. Even if the clergyman could have heard Him, it wouldn’t have mattered.

“I seal you, creature of Hell!” the clergyman had yelled. “I bind you to this iron prison!” He had held up some sort of cross, some sort of...emblem that radiated energy as evil as the man himself. “You shall be my prisoner, and my child’s prisoner, and my child’s child’s prisoner! You shall be trapped for now until eternity!”

And the next thing He knew, He was stuck in a dark box. No sunlight, no soft breeze, no sound. There was  _ no  _ escape.  _ He was trapped. _ He was alone.

It was like that for a long time; days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months. He lost track after that, and He stopped trying to remember. There was no reason to subject himself to counting numbers that had slowly ceased to have meaning. It wasn’t like there would ever be a day that He could escape.

But centuries after His imprisonment, He heard a voice. It was soft at first, so quiet that it was almost inaudible. Days passed, and each day, the voice grew a little louder, until one day, He could finally hear the words.

 

**_“Would you like to escape this prison?”_ **

 

_ Yes, yes, of course I would! Please! Help me! _

 

**_“Oh, I cannot help you. You must help yourself. If you truly wish to escape, I can give you the means, but I can do no more than that.”_ **

 

_ I will do anything! Anything, I swear it! _

 

**_“Then will you give up any chance at just being a spirit again? Would you give up your chance to be given life once again? Would you give me your spiritual energy?”_ **

 

_ I...what...would that make me…? _

 

**_“You said you would do anything. It doesn’t matter what you become, as long as you can be free?”_ **

 

_ I...yes, yes, I will do it! Just get me out of here! _

 

At first, it was like nothing had changed. The voice faded away, and there was only nothingness once again.  It seemed to stay that way for quite some time, and He started to believe that He really was going to be stuck here for the rest of eternity. After all, there was no way to measure otherwise.

Then from the darkness, the voice returned.  It did not speak words, at least none that He could understand.  When the voice first began to speak, He started to feel different.  It was like a part of Him, the part that kept Him a spirit, was being taken away.  It was small pieces at first, and then suddenly bigger chunks of what he could only describe as his soul were being ripped away from him.

 

_ No!  What is happening!?  Why are you doing this to me!? _

 

**_“Because you said you were willing to do anything, to give up your entire being, if only to be free.”_ **

 

_ But this is not what I wanted!  I want to remain myself! If I lose this...my soul...I won’t be me anymore! _

 

**_“Yes, well.  That_ ** **is** **_the point after all.”_ **

 

It felt like it went on forever, the pieces being ripped away.  It hurt. He cried, even if His ethereal body did not produce tears in the void, He still sobbed and screamed as every piece was taken away, until there was nothing left save for pain, hatred, and rage.  All that was good about Him was now lost. He was no longer a spirit. He was something else.

 

_ What have you done to me? _

 

He spoke with words laced with pain and anger, and He wanted nothing more than to rip the one who did this to him apart.

 

**_“I have given you the means to an end.”_ **

 

_ What is that even supposed to mean! _

 

**_“You will see.  One day, an opportunity will arise that will give you leave of this prison, but you must realize when that day is for yourself.  For now, all I can say is that you truly are what the men of the church call A Vile Demon.”_ **

 

And then the voice left, and He was left alone once more. Except He was no longer alone.  No, He was surrounded by rage; fiery, rabid anger that tore at his insides and drew from him howls of fury. He’d been stripped of  _ everything _ He’d once been. A  _ demon,  _ He was a demon now, or at least something so base and monstrous that  _ demon _ was the only word He could find to describe it.

The Demon clawed at the walls of His prison, and screamed for the soul He’d once had.

It took what felt like an infinite amount of time, but at last, the Demon settled, stewed silently in His unending ire. The void felt too small; He _ needed _ to escape. More than that though, He was  _ hungry _ . There was a ravenous void within himself that needed to be filled, and if it took fighting tooth and nail to get out, then He would, if only so He could fill the hole that had been left in His chest.

Yes, the Demon was silent, but He was by no means calm. He was only biding His time. One day, the Demon would get out. As He languished in His prison, He grew more aware of what was outside of the prison He was kept in. Of the increasingly lazy care the cage was kept with, of the disbelief of the priests that He was truly within. Knowing that His time was coming, the Demon started to claw His way out.

It was painful, almost as painful as having His soul ripped away. He had hate to push Him forward, however, and it kept the Demon from giving in. One day, when the priest had grown complacent, and He was ready, He finally struck. Finally,  _ finally _ He would be able to escape this cruel torment that pursued Him.

And yet, even after killing the old fool, He was  _ still there _ .  He was  _ still trapped _ .

 

_ Why can’t I leave!? _

 

Even after throwing Himself against the doors, the Demon could only burn with anger and stand above the cross He’d been kept in, waiting.

But then it came,  _ he _ came. A boy, with milky blue eyes. A boy who glowed with pure radiant light. A boy who shivered, yet shown as pure as the Demon was not. And in that moment, the Demon knew that the boy had to be  _ His. _ Even though when He tried to claim His prize, a dreaded holy being appeared and drove Him away, the Demon was far from gone. In no way was He about to leave this plane after being freed from the prison that had kept Him for so long. No, He wasn’t going to forgive the creatures that had shut Him away.

And He certainly didn’t forget the boy who had set Him free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y'all are enjoying this so far. Never fear, some more traditional narrative will be coming, but for now, enjoy our little fairy tale. It's sure to be a... well, not pleasant, but a ride non the less.
> 
> Now if you'll excuse me, I have someone to cuddle with...


End file.
